Shadow Play
by sleep learning
Summary: In the centre of the lust lies Axel; in this moment, the personification of debauchery.


The cloying smell of sex and sweat hung heavily, laced with the hinting scent of illusion. Sharp and metallic, drifting in the undercurrent of the senses, tantalizing in its intangibility. A mere suggestion that sparked for an instant -caught on tongue or skin- a hazy shimmering mirage on the edge of sight.

The walls were lined with darkness, warm and smothering in the small room, while the shadows of two moving bodies flickered in the faint light emitted by waning candles.

Long, drawn out sighs and shuddering gasps punctuated the tense atmosphere, thickened in a haze of lust. The sounds echoed through the room, a mixture of intense breathing and something undefinable… an intimacy stronger than a simple drawn out moment of pleasure in a hidden room in the depths of the castle.

In the centre of the lust lies Axel, in this moment, the personification of debauchery. Laid back, stretched across a wooden table. Skin shimmering golden in the light, sweat soaked and thrumming in desire. Head tilted back, baleful, chromatic green eyes watching through long lashes, lifting in the corners in the creation of a smirk. His hair spikes out haphazardly, darkening at the roots in perspiration. A trickle of sweat glides down his cheek, toxic in its sensuality. His tongue darts out in a slow sweep, tasting his own ardour and desire, tracing back over parted lips before releasing a low moan, eyes never leaving the body hovering above him.

His chest rises in laboured movements, struggling both from the physical activities and the two large hands spread wide over his skin. The nails press deep, kneading, tightening then relaxing repeatedly. The same rhythm at which Axel gasps, the same rhythm mimicked in the shadows on the wall. A sexual shadow play.

Axel's hands are currently in motion. Caught between two choices, indecisive and avaricious. They rest on either side of his partner, griping the jutting hip bones with controlled, possessive strength. But soon, they move to slide under the straining thighs that straddle him, cupping underneath and coaxing the undulating dance they make. His eyes flicker over the body on top of him, a concoction of pride and passionate wanting swirls in staining, sinful green.

It is a perfect mirror image.

Their bodies are moulded in the same muscled strength.

Their skin blazes in the same sunbathed glow.

Their hair, wild and tangled, an identical shade of vermillion.

Lips part in sync, eyes burn with equal intensity.

Each gasp and moan, cry and growl is perfect mimicry.

The Axel above stretches back, impaling himself further and choking in the pain of prolonged pleasure.

The Axel below grins and watches shamelessly, as the man above him pulls in shaking breathes, struggling to get the required oxygen but refusing to stop. What had started as a controlled, languid and grinding pace has become desperate and erratic. Caught in a stream of soft cries and sharp wanting grunts, they move faster, slick skin slapping together. On the table, Axel leans his head back, elbows propped up, grin appearing evilly as he pushes his hips up, violent and dominating.

There is harsh cry from his partner, his body becomes rigid and his mouth freezes in a silent 'oh' as he teeters on the edge of release.

For a moment, a static spark of colour emerges; streaks of blue and black materialize in his hair, the jaw softening while the eyes burst into a startling shade of blue-

"You're losing it"

Annoyance flickers over his face as the illusion is brought forward again. Perfect symmetry once more.

They continue, pace quickened, hands roaming on instinct, desperate to reach climax.

His voice sounds distorted as he stares down at Axel, half contemptuous, half defensive.

"Have you any idea…uh… how difficult it is to keep this up when you're…"

His words are cut short as his back arcs in a final spasm, straining moans and suspended breaths as he finishes in complete abandon.

He absently continues to ride the man beneath him, whose face shines in self-satisfied victory. Only when Axel comes too, does he remove himself, resting his sweat and sex stained body beside the red head.

The acrid smell of illusions return for an instant, and suddenly the man beside Axel is smaller. His body is pale and lean, a single blue eye staring vacantly as he blows damp locks of silvering indigo hair out of his face.

Axel sits up, the muscles in his back ripple seductively as he stretches his arms out.

The arrogance in his voice is surprisingly endearing.

"Man, I look fucking sexy when I ride someone."

The smaller man, still lying on the table lets out a small scoffing noise, which turns to a cough as he tries to catch his breath.

Axel turns to look over his shoulder, eyes bright with renewed lust.

"Thanks, Zex."

In a cat like motion he turns around, arms trapping Zexion on either side, body hanging tortuously close.

"I'm done fucking myself now. How bout I give you a go this time?"


End file.
